


Athos and Constance's Family

by SGLAB



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10373946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SGLAB/pseuds/SGLAB
Summary: This is going to be a series of short fics set after my fic Married Friends.  And may even have some short fics set during the war.





	1. A Small Interruption

**Author's Note:**

> These aren't missing scenes from the episodes of season three. I don't really plan to stick exactly to season three. It's not linear. Each chapter is its own short fic.

A Small interruption

Athos sat in his office at the garrison working on a pile of paperwork. After going along with his brothers on a couple of missions after returning from the war he had been chastised by Treville for leaving his post at the garrison.

Being separated from the others didn’t feel right, but he had a duty. And he was trying to find some semblance of normalcy. Trying to settle back into life in Paris, reacquainting himself with Constance and getting to know their daughter.

He regretted most of all missing those first few years of Olivia’s life. And just when he and Constance could look ahead to a life together, the war came.

He looked up from the paper he had been reading to reach for his long abandoned cup of wine when he noticed the door to his office begin to open. He looked at the open door confused when he didn’t see anyone. And then he happened to glance down and saw the little girl.

He couldn’t hold back the smile as he watched her walk towards him with purpose.

“Papa, play with me,” she looked up at him with begging eyes.

“Olivia, I’m afraid I still have some work to do,” he said watching her bottom lip begin to stick out. “Who’s supposed to be minding you?”

“Uncle Porthos and uncle Mis,” she said, her frown even greater than before.

Athos wanted to frown too; where were her minders indeed?

“Olivia, what would you like to play?” Athos asked as he picked her up into his lap.

“Tea party,” she said with enthusiasm.

Athos managed to avoid the groan that desperately wanted out. He really didn’t know what to expect with a daughter. It was just as likely she could like swords as dolls and tea parties.

Playing with dolls and pretend tea parties was not his idea of a good time, but if that’s what his daughter wanted, that’s what she was going to get. And her uncles were going to have to play right along. d’Artagnan would be back from the palace soon.

“Olivia, I do have some work to finish, but if you can play here quietly on the floor, your uncles and I would be delighted to play with you,” he said.

This had the affect he was hoping for. Olivia had one of her dolls and Athos was fairly certain his office contained some of her toys she had left behind.

TM

It was twenty minutes later when Athos’ office door swung open and three grown men nearly fell into his office all trying to enter at once.

“Gentlemen?” Athos raised an eyebrow.

“Athos, don’t be angry, but…”

“Porthos, she’s here,” Aramis interrupted the other man.

“Uncle Charles,” Olivia got up from the floor running to d’Artagnan and wrapping her arms around his legs. Apparently she hadn’t seen him yet today. She was the only one allowed to call him by his first name since she had difficulty pronouncing his last name.

d’Artagnan picked her up into his arms.

“Uncle Porthos and Uncle Mis lost me today.” She informed Uncle Charles.

“Did they?” d’Artagnan raised an amused eyebrow at the others.

“She’s sneaky,” Porthos said.

The next thing Athos knew, Constance wandered into his office holding a cloth bag full of food stuff.

“Madame, you’re just in time,” Athos stood walking over to his wife and taking the bag from her.

“Oh?” She looked at him amusedly. “Whatever for, Monsieur?”

“I wish to invite you to a tea party,” he said in his most sophisticated manner. It was a manner that none of them had from him in years. He had relaxed and opened up so much in the last few years, they had nearly forgotten he had once been part of the nobility.

Of course now he was playing up for show.

Olivia cheered while the other three men realized they too were being roped into this. “Captain,” Aramis was putting on a show of his own. “I would be delighted to join, but…”

“But nothing,” Athos said. “You have no more duties for the day. I should know; I am the captain of this regiment.”

“Of course,” Aramis said before he was nudged rather hard by Porthos.

They all left the office to retire to the Captain and his family’s quarters while he heard quiet bickering among three grown men and the giggling that followed from one little girl.

The End


	2. The Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan receive letters from home while they're at war.

The Letters

They are five months into the war. Nothing is happening at the moment; it’s a lot of hurry up and wait. Porthos and d’Artagnan are restless sitting in their shared tent cleaning their guns.

The tent flap parts and Athos ducks his head inside. “I have letters,” he announces.

d’Artagnan and Porthos share a confused look as Athos hands them each a letter.

“Who would be writing us?” d’Artagnan asks gesturing to Porthos and himself.

“My wife,” Athos says with a smile.

“Why would…?”

“d’Artagnan, just read your letter,” Athos says taking up the empty chair across from them.

The three men open their letter and silently begin to read. A few minutes later Porthos chuckles. A minute after that d’Artagnan hums interest. It’s another few minutes that passes in near silence before Athos sighs heavily.

_Dear Porthos,_

_I realize you are most likely surprised to receive a letter from me. Please don’t think of this letter one of pity, but simply a letter from a friend-no, family. You, d’Artagnan and Aramis are as much family to me as Athos and this child on its way._

_I wanted to tell you, as I am still living at my house, I received an interesting visitor the other day. Your old friend from the Court of Miracles Flea visited me. It was very kind of you to ask her to check up on me, but not necessary._

_I remember the day you took me to the Court to introduce me to her. She was nothing like I expected. I will admit to being a bit intimidated when she stood in front of me looking at me, sizing me up. But I think she decided I was alright._

_She is doing well it seems. Not that you could tell if there was anything wrong. I understand she doesn’t wish to be a burden on anyone._

_She didn’t stay for very long. I’m not sure when I will see her again though. I have another few months before I move into the palace._

_I hope this letter finds you well. Take care of each other and I pray I will see you all soon._

_Constance_

_Dear d’Artagnan,_

_As I also wrote to Porthos I am sure you are wondering why I am writing to you. Well, I consider all of you family._

_I hope you’re doing all right. The garrison is not so lively these days. There are the occasional new recruit that comes through. They’re all so young; there are days I want to mother them. That I suppose could come down to the maternal instincts I am developing from my child yet to come._

_Of course there are other days I just want to pull out my own sword and show them what they’re doing wrong. Although please don’t tell Athos of that occasional compulsion of mine. Don’t worry, I have yet to let such a compulsion come out. Though it may have more to do with the fact that I am a woman and I am not so sure they would take me seriously._

_Now I do hope Athos has given you instructions on your foot placement. I noticed you were a little off a few days before you left for the war._

_Be well. Take care of each other as I told Porthos and Athos the same._

_Constance_

_My Dearest Athos,_

_I do hope you are not worrying about us too much. I am doing well. I will be moving into the palace in a few months._

_Our house is far too quiet and it’s not just your absence that is so striking. I miss the lot of you fools. I go to the garrison every on occasion, but it is also far too quiet. Only the occasional recruit will arrive._

_I was thinking you should make a list of names you like. We need to find a suitable name for our child._

_I am sorry you are missing this. I hope it won’t be too long before you are able to meet our child._

_I apologize for the sad turn in my letter. I love you. Please take care of each other. I expect to see all three of you home as soon as possible._

_All My Love,_

_Constance_

The letters are dated from nearly four months ago. It occurs to them Constance is likely close to her delivery and is currently residing in the palace.

“You’re a lucky man, Athos,” Porthos says folding his letter from Constance and tucking it away safely.

“Yes,” d’Artagnan nods. “Very lucky.”

Athos bows his head unable to speak at first. “I’ll see you both in the morning. We leave at first light.”

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchange a look of gratitude for the news. They are ready to get moving. But first the two Musketeers make a silent agreement between them to ensure Athos returns home to see his wife and their child.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow this one ended up written in present tense. It's not how I write naturally. I usually write automatically in past tense. Oh well, hopefully it works and I didn't accidentally slip into past tense anywhere.


	3. Contemplations On: An Absent Husband, Boredom and a Baby On the Way

Title: Contemplations On: An Absent Husband, boredom and A Baby on the Way

Constance stood placing her embroidery down in the chair she had vacated. She stretched attempting to relieve some of the pressure on her back.

Looking over her shoulder, she glared at the embroidery work she had completed in the last hour. Only a few stitches had been made. She would give anything to be sparing with swords against Athos.

By midday she had mended all the clothes she had been putting off and most of those were Athos’ shirts. How he had all these ripped shirts left behind she couldn’t fathom. What was he wearing now, she wondered? She shook her head, no sense going down that road; she would only worry herself more.

It had been a month since she had heard from Athos, the longest period she had not heard from him since he left for the war. She knew she had to stop this line of thought, or she would go mad.

She grimaced as the ache in her back persisted. One of her hands rested on her rounded stomach. She was expecting this baby to come any day now. She was living in the palace; the queen had insisted two months earlier that she stay at least until the baby was born.

She still hadn’t narrowed down the names she had listed for consideration. Athos had been no help. She wrote to him asking for his thoughts on a name and he wrote back telling her he was fine with whatever she picked.

Constance sighed. It had been nearly six months since Athos, Porthos and d’Artagnan had left for war against Spain. She assured Athos before he left she would be fine. And she was certain she would be fine. Oh she knew she would miss Athos as well as the others, but she was certain she could cope with his absence. But a couple of months in and the sudden quickening of the baby took her by surprise and left her panicking.

It had taken a good long talk with the queen to calm Constance’s nerves. It was such a mortifying moment expecting the queen to calm her down.

A sudden sharp pain shot through her back just as there was a knock on her door.

“Come in,” Constance said.

“Constance.”

Constance could hear the queen’s voice, but she was suddenly very distracted by another sharp pain.

“Your Majesty, forgive me, but I think I need the doctor.”

Anne gasped. “Of course Constance.”

There was a long moment of silence while Constance focused on her breathing. She hadn’t noticed the queen had left the room or for how long.

“The doctor is on his way,” the queen said. “Constance, you should lie down.”

Constance nodded following the queen towards her bed and lay down. She felt a tear slip down the side of her face and in her hair.

One of her hands grabbed a fistful of the bed covers. She felt a cool, soft hand without calluses wrap around her tightly fisted hand.

Constance looked to the side of the bed. The queen sat calmly next to her holding her hand.

Finally the doctor arrived and the next several hours would become a blur of noises and smells and tears.

TM

Constance lay exhausted in bed holding her daughter. The queen sat quietly a couple of feet away.

“Do you have a name for her?” Anne asked.

Constance’s smile somehow grew brighter. She turned and looked at the queen. “Olivia,” she said.

The End


End file.
